


Every Storm a Serenade

by Ad_Absurdum



Series: Imaginary Fragrances [12]
Category: Imaginary Authors (Perfumes)
Genre: 1930s, Gdansk, Gdynia, Gen, Merpeople, Original work - Freeform, Sopot, Trójmiasto, baltic sea, or some imaginary time before World War II which didn't actually happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24555997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Absurdum/pseuds/Ad_Absurdum
Summary: Notes:spruce, eucalyptus, vetiver, calone, ambergris, Baltic Sea mistWhen to wear:Now
Series: Imaginary Fragrances [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1166144





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** This fragrance, with these notes, actually does exist but this story is a bit different from what Imaginary Authors thought up for it [here](https://imaginaryauthors.com/products/every-storm-a-serenade). And that's why it's still a part of this series.
> 
> The image below is something I found after I started writing this, but the mood (despite the photographs being from 40s/50s) is somehow fitting. Source of the image: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aislinnclarke/status/1231235369447940098)

  
The wind was picking up.

A young woman standing on the shore, turned her back to the sea and started across the sandy beach towards her temporary home.

Her aunt let her take her summer house off season. Since October it had been standing empty anyway, except for a housekeeper coming every Monday to dust the furniture a bit. Aunt Lila always moved back to Warsaw for winter; Gdynia and its storms were not for her once the late autumn came.

The weather turning colder did not bother the young woman, though. She actually liked this town out of season. It was calmer and there were hardly any people on the beaches - somehow no one really wanted to sunbathe once the summer ended.

When the woman reached the line of trees growing where the beach ended and was about to step onto a path leading through the small wood and further into the town proper, she finally heard what she was waiting for. The song was as beautiful as it was forlorn and the woman stopped to listen. She could never make out the words - they were lost in the sound of waves and wind, which still carried the melody though, making it seem as if the song came from the sea itself.

The woman smiled at the thought. It wasn't very probable that someone stayed out, again and again, and only sang when the storm was coming, but maybe it wasn't entirely impossible. She knew that the songs she kept hearing weren't simply figments of her imagination but she had no idea what else it could be.

Perhaps the mermaids. Or mermen (she was pretty sure it was a man's voice). She laughed a little, as always when she reached that point in her thinking.

The mermaids - or sirens for those caring about the classics - were mythical creatures with beautiful voices, but they seemed to sing only because they wanted to lead the sailors who dared to trespass on their territory to their untimely but well-deserved deaths.

This had to be something else, then. For one thing, the woman had no intention of ever becoming a sailor and for another, the singing she heard did not make her want to throw herself into the sea and drown either. Which was good, all things considered.

If anything, the songs were somehow comforting and the woman truly loved listening to them, even though they always seemed sad and full of yearning, as if telling stories of someone's heart's greatest desire.

Her only regret was that she could never hear those melodies when the weather was actually nice. No, instead it was always either a storm or heavy rain that poured down from a sky devoid of any colour except dull grey. Maybe that was why she kept thinking the songs were sad?

The woman shivered slightly, pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders. It wasn't raining where she was standing (yet) but it was only a matter of minutes. She should run if she wanted to reach her home without getting soaked to the bone, but she couldn't quite bring herself to move yet. She wanted to listen to that voice just a little bit longer. Just a minute or two.

She stood there until she felt the first drops of rain being blown into her face with the ever stronger wind. She turned away from the sea and ran towards her home.

She did get soaked through, but she didn't mind. There was a warmth inside her that felt a little like happiness. Or something of the kind.

She smiled, drying off her hair. Then she changed out of her wet clothes, made herself a cup of tea and sat down to write. After all, she came here, to this town, to find some inspiration. Perhaps if she were satisfied with how her novel turned out after she finished, she would try to publish it. That was the plan, anyway.

She stayed up until late at night, writing. Sometimes she had the impression that she could still hear that voice singing - maybe it was only her imagination but it gladdened her heart all the same.

The next morning it still rained. The woman made herself breakfast, peering through the window and wondering if a walk in this weather would be a good idea. Around noon the rain became a drizzle and the wind died down so the woman put on her wellingtons, two jumpers and a raincoat and went out. She walked the familiar path to the beach. It was empty, as could be expected, even despite the fact that the sun started to peek out a little from behind the clouds.

She trudged through the wet sand, hoping faintly that she would hear the singing again. She didn't, but instead she found an interesting thing. Among the dead seaweeds and stones lying on the ground, there was something that caught the sun rays, pale and faint though they were.

The woman picked up what turned out to be a piece of amber. It was rough and unpolished but it had beautiful, dark orange colour that reminded her of honey or the sun setting on a summer evening.

The woman carefully pocketed her small treasure and smiled to herself - finding this was like getting a gift from the sea. The thought _was_ rather fanciful, but since she felt no need to share it with anybody, she didn't particularly care about it being true or not.

Maybe she would give the amber to a jeweller, so that it could be fashioned into something, she wondered. A pendant or a ring... She'd have to think about it, but the idea seemed to have some merit.


	2. Chapter 2

November passed and when December began, the woman finally decided what she wanted to do with the stone she'd found. She wanted a ring, but not the usual kind where the jewel is framed in silver or gold. What she had in mind was more like a band made entirely out of amber.

"Can you do that, sir?" She was standing in a workshop of one of the best jewellers the whole tricity of Gdynia, Gdańsk and Sopot had, and waited for his verdict.

The old man was looking at the stone intently.

"Aye, certainly. That's a mighty fine piece of amber, though. You sure you only want a ring?"

"Well," the woman hesitated. She didn't really want anything else, but this piece was certainly big enough to make a few more things out of it. "Maybe another ring?"

She didn't exactly know what she would do with it, but she suddenly had a thought. "But can you make it slightly bigger than the first one?"

She would wear the first - _her_ \- ring on her right hand, but the other...

She glanced at her palm.

"Can you make it, maybe, like this?" She indicated the index finger of her left hand.

"Matching pair? Like wedding rings?"

"No, of course not."

That must have sounded quite defensive, the woman thought, embarrassed. And probably not very convincing. She was fully aware that at her age she should already be married - at least that's what her mother kept telling her with increasing frequency. The thing was, though, that she didn't particularly _want_ to get married and didn't see much point in it. She didn't have to chase a rich husband; her job wasn't maybe the most glamorous one out there (women's jobs rarely were), but she could afford a living without having to rely on her father's money.  
And in any case, she probably wouldn't be the one dealing with the choice of wedding rings.

"No?" the jeweller cocked his eyebrow at her.

"No. But can they have some ornaments on them? Maybe some sea motif?" She neatly avoided the subject of the rings' purpose, but then paused. "How much would it cost?" she added, rather cautiously.

The jeweller thought for a bit, then took a scrap of paper and wrote something on it.

"That's... expensive," the woman murmured, peering at the paper containing the price for the rings. She bit her lip. She couldn't afford it. Though if that was the price for two rings, half of it would be for one, right? _That_ she could afford.

"Tell you what," the jeweller spoke. "Even if I make two rings, there will still be some material left. I'll take it and in exchange I will drop the price."

"Really?"

That sounded like a pretty good offer. She would have no use for the leftover bits of amber anyway.

"Okay. How much would _that_ cost, then?"

This time the price looked much better.

"Great." She smiled. "Let's do this like this, then. When do you think the rings would be ready?"

The jeweller squinted as if rifling through his mental calendar.

"Three to four weeks," he finally said. "Come on the 20th and we shall see."

On 20th of December the jeweller made a philosophical face and said the rings needed final polishing.

"Come on 24th, aye?"

"The workshop will be open on Christmas Eve?"

"Until noon."

24th of December came and the woman visited the jeweller again.

"Here, take a look." He handed her the rings.

They were beautiful. The jeweller made the bands wide enough to cover them in delicate carvings. The woman didn't expect such complexity of the ornaments: tiny golden fish swimming through tiny golden seaweeds. The attention to detail was unbelievable.

Incidentally, the rings did match - they weren't exactly the same but similar enough to see they were a pair. It didn't really bother the woman, though. Maybe she would wear both.

"This is amazing." The woman couldn't stop staring at the rings. "I don't know what to say. Thank you."

The jeweller smiled, seeing her awestruck expression.

"I added a few extra touches here and there. Thought that may come in handy."

The woman blinked. What a strange explanation. "Thank you once again."

She resisted the urge to put on her ring right away, but it was difficult. She carried the small package home, put it on the dining table and sat down to writing. She would open the package when she was going to sit down to supper. She was spending Christmas Eve alone, but the next day she was leaving the town to visit her parents for a few days, so it was all right that there would be no family (or anybody for that matter) with her this evening. She didn't mind.

It turned out that writing kept her occupied for the next few hours. She only got up because it got dark and she had to turn on the light. Then she noticed it was past four already, so she finished up the scene, tidied up a bit and went to the kitchen to make herself something to eat. Her aunt's cook still came every second or third day to drop the food she'd prepared and that was truly a blessing because though the woman was reasonably sure she could _describe_ even the biggest banquet pretty damn well, she couldn't really cook. Only the most basic stuff, but how long can you eat sandwiches, pasta or egg salad?

The woman was especially grateful that for Christmas the cook decided to go the extra mile. There was even pudding!

The woman sat down to eat but before she even took a bite, she opened the box with the amber rings and placed it in front of her. The rings caught the light of the lamps and reflected it in honey-golden colours. She gazed at them while eating, once again admiring the work that went into creating those intricate patterns.

Finally though, she could wait no more - she simply had to put her ring on.

It fit perfectly, as she knew it would. She grinned. Maybe it did look a little like a wedding band, especially since she wore it like this, but she couldn't be bothered to care.

She worried briefly what her mother was going to say seeing this, but then she could always tell her that the ring didn't fit any other of her fingers and she'd really wanted to have it. It was the truth anyway.

The woman didn't take off the ring even when she went to sleep. That night she dreamt of sunlight reflecting off fish's tails' scales, strange cities deep under the sea surface and how the sea still seemed to sing to her.


	3. Chapter 3

The woman stayed with her parents until New Year and returned to Gdynia in the first few days of January 1930. The midnight fireworks as the year ended were especially spectacular, even if the new decade was really going to come only in 1931.

As predicted, the comments the woman received form her mother regarding the ring were along the lines she had imagined. Likewise her excuse, and that was that. She also took with her the other ring (somehow she felt they should 'stay' together since they were a pair... sort of), but that one she wore like a pendant, on a silver chain around her neck. Underneath all of her clothes, so that no one could see. It wasn't silly, she kept reminding herself, it was just private.

After she came back for her parents' place, she spent the first three or four weeks just lazing around. She read the books she'd received as Christmas gifts, went on long walks when it wasn't snowing too heavily and when it was, she amused herself by drawing pictures of what she saw out of her window. She'd found an old set of colourful pencils that was stashed in the attic along with sheets of drawing paper and an easel. She left the easel where it was, but took the rest downstairs; drawing wasn't maybe her strongest point, but it was fun to try anyway.

She hadn't gone to the beach until February began. Somehow she didn't feel like it. Besides, the season for storms ended and she wouldn't hear the singing anyway. Although sometimes late in the evenings, when the sky was clear and the sound carried further than usually, she could swear she heard something. Faint notes of unknown songs, but they seemed happier than before. She suspected this time it was purely her imagination. Even if the sea was just a ten minutes' walk from her home, it was too far for any voice to carry. Still, it was lovely and so what if it was only in her head?

In February the winter finally gave way to warmer temperatures and a bit of sun. It wasn't anything extravagant, but it was at last around zero degrees C instead of minus ten or twenty.

One such day the woman went for a walk along the seashore. The ice on the waterline had already melted, as had the snow on the sand and there were even some people strolling up and down the beach, enjoying the refreshing breeze and fine weather.

And that was when the woman heard the singing again. Her heart skipped a beat - surely this time she would be able to see the singer. He had to be one of those people taking a walk this very moment.

However, try as she might, she couldn't find him. Not one of the people around looked a likely candidate and none of them were singing or even humming under their breaths.

She puzzled over that for a few minutes and then decided to ask an older woman sitting on one of the metal benches along one side of a pier. She was clearly resting after her walk and the woman thought an old lady might be nicer than most and not call her a fool right from the start.

"Excuse me, madam. Can you perhaps hear some... singing?"

Even when she was asking the question, the woman felt a bit silly. That feeling only grew when she heard the answer.

"Singing?" The old lady looked at her with surprise in her faded blue eyes. "Child, it's the middle of winter. Who would be singing anything here in this cold?"

"Ah, I'm sorry. I just thought I heard something."

The woman sort of half-curtsied while saying goodbye and started walking again.

_Is this how losing your mind looks like?_ she wondered.

She still heard the song.

_I don't get it_ , she frowned. _What **is** this?_

She sighed, threw the last glance at the sea and walked back towards her home. She suddenly got an idea she wanted to write. It had nothing to do with the book she was working on, but she wanted to tell herself a new story.

After that day the weather turned colder again. It didn't dissuade the woman from visiting the seashore, though, even if most of the times she was the only one there. Maybe it was better this way - she heard the singing almost every time now and at least no one looked at her strangely when she hummed or searched around for a voice that apparently only she could hear.

February soon turned into March. The woman was close to finally finishing her book. She would have to start sending letters to publishers soon. Or maybe she would go to Warsaw herself. Aunt Lila was still there and would be there till June probably. Unless she decided to visit Paris again this year...

The woman wrinkled her nose. She would think how to organise everything after she actually finished writing, she decided. She felt strangely reluctant to leave this place. Maybe she got used to the sea, the scent of air here and even the storms. And if she left, she would miss the songs as well. Somehow, she was sure she wouldn't hear them anywhere else. Still, there was some time yet before she had to go.

* * *

This end-of-March day was unusually warm. The woman walked along the pier, up to the very end of it. There she took off her shoes, rolled down her stockings (there was no one around - again - so she supposed it was okay), sat down on the planks and dipped her feet into the water. It was still cold despite the sun shining like it was the middle of summer, but it wasn't freezing, so the woman stayed like this for a while.

The water was so clear she could see how the sunshine filtered through it and reflected off her feet. They shimmered with rainbow colours and looked a bit like they were covered in scales.

The woman laughed a little but then squinted with suspicion. That wasn't just an illusion.

She lifted her legs above the water level. They looked normal now. 

Hmm, maybe it was an illusion after all.

She slowly lowered them again but the moment her feet became fully submerged, the impression was back. In fact, it seemed like the scales went all the way to her mid-calf, up to where her legs were covered by water. She wanted to rub one foot against the other to see it she could feel anything strange, but the moment her legs touched, they sort of started to melt together.

Heart pounding, she immediately took her legs out of water and back onto the solid ground (or pier, as it was). They immediately went back to normal and the woman breathed a sigh of relief, but decided she had enough of sea-bathing for today. She unconsciously rubbed her amber ring to calm herself down and when she noticed it, she suddenly remembered why it was that she came here at all.

The woman touched the ring that she still wore on a chain around her neck. She unclasped it and slid the ring off, onto her palm. Honestly, why didn't she think of it sooner? The sea gave her the amber so it was only fair that she should give the sea a ring made out of it. She had no use for the second ring anyway and now she couldn't even figure out why she wanted two in he first place.

She sighed and tossed the ring into the water. Not far from the pier because she didn't want any curious seagull to catch it and eat. Those birds ate seemingly everything. Luckily the ring went where it should and the woman watched as it quickly sank.

Strange. She'd always thought that amber floated on the water surface. Never mind; maybe she'd been wrong. The important thing was that the ring was now hopefully where it belonged.

* * *

_Meanwhile, under the sea surface, a few metres from the pier..._

A creature with sparkly fish tail and torso of a man happily admired the amber ring on his finger.

"So you did catch it."

Another similar creature swam up to the first one and looked at the ring as well.

"Of course I did. I couldn't allow any stray fish swimming nearby to eat it."

"And it fits?" The second merman (for the creatures were exactly what they appeared to be) stared surprised.

"It does." The first merman was smiling dreamily. "I knew it would."

The second one looked at his friend with a sort of pitying disbelief. "Yeah, I don't think so."

"I did," the first one insisted. "There was no other option. She heard my singing," he added as if that explained everything. It didn't.

The second merman frowned in thought. "I still don't understand how _that_ was possible. She shouldn't have."

"Well, she did and who cares. Maybe it's magic or something." The first merman grinned. "Oh, by the way, did you see her legs just now?" he asked, suddenly remembering what he witnessed, waiting for the ring.

"No." The second merman sounded like he was possibly mildly offended. "Why would I?"

"They were getting scales and changing into a tail." He waved his own tail in front of his friend's nose.

"Okay, now you're just confusing your wishful thinking with reality. Are you sure you're feeling quite all right?"

There was genuine concern in the second merman's tone.

The other merman sighed. "I know you don't believe me." He looked at his hand. "I think it's got something to do with the rings."

"The rings?"

The merman nodded and then smiled faintly. "Magic or something."

The second one rolled his eyes. "Whatever. So now what?"

"Uh, that's a very good question." The first merman looked kind of nonplussed. "What now?"

After a bit of silence the second merman finally realised the question was waiting for _his_ answer. He really wanted to say 'You're joking or what?' or 'I have no idea', but he decided to be a bit more charitable about the whole thing.

"Letting her know you exist would probably be a good idea."

"Well yeah, but how do I do that?"

"How should I know? Just don't freak her out."

"You think she might get scared if I try to talk to her?"

The second merman shrugged. "People sometimes react strangely. Maybe don't get too close at first, okay? Who knows what she'll do. She might faint, but she also might whack you with a paddle or something."

"Now you're just making fun of me." The other merman's expression was somewhere between miffed and pouty.

"Yeah, I am." It didn't look like it weighed too heavily on the second merman's conscience. "Anyway, whatever you do, just don't propose to her first thing off." He started laughing again.

"I wasn't going to!"

"You weren't? Well, pardon my mistake then, but judging by how enamoured you were with this ring just now, I thought the whole thing was already settled." The second merman was laughing so much he could hardly swim straight.

"You have entirely too much fun with this." The other merman huffed.

"Friend's privileges."

They swam for a moment in silence and then the second merman spoke again.

"So, are you going to do something?"

"I am."

That sounded surprisingly decisive.

"Well, good luck then. You will probably need it."


End file.
